Dec 12, 2024
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Thread/Soulmate Warhammer AU
Not really a soulmate AU, but more of "threads of fate" au.
~~~~
Ra’s thread is a thin, fragile thing. The Emperor had been loath to break it, had hesitated, His claws hovering over the delicate braid. He had held it, as delicate as the umbilical cord of a newborn, and grieved as He felt what He had to do. In the end He had wrapped it in gossamer like the finest of silk, and woven it, with infinite care, into His own.
When Drach'nyen thrust itself in, it had severed both threads.
~
Valdor’s thread is crimson. The Emperor had cut off at his wrist, with the only remnants wrapped around his forearm like a chain. The ends still twitch and tangle, as if waiting for a man he had lost before they even met. The Emperor took the frayed threads of the severed rope, and bound it to Him.
Now it wraps around Valdor’s throat like a leash. (Or a noose.)
Valdor does not mind.
(Once, only once, in mere moments before Constantin lowered the blade, he had seen the flash of recognition. The sudden unknotting of a thread of fate both had assumed severed so long ago.
And then the mercy blow. A horrible moment of terrible pity etched across his victim’s pain-stricken face, and the sadness in those tormented eyes not for himself but for Valdor.
And, finally, oblivion. )
(He never did know the exact moment when his thread broke.)
~
Sanguinius’ thread is black. He can see it, twisting there, stretching onwards, inked across the sands of time. When he had met Horus, the Angel had stalled, a smile still stretched across his face, noting down the way his thread had wrapped itself lazily around Horus’ arms. Their threads had tumbled and tangled over one another, so deeply intertwined it was impossible to remove without severing one.
Horus did not seem to see a thing amiss.
~
Lorgar, his thread brilliant red, wrapped around the Emperor’s chest. The way he had screamed at the fury in His eyes when He had reached up and tore the thread out of His breast, snapping the thin thing in half beneath His claws. The way he had cursed Him, the remnants of the thread pooling around him like shed snakeskin, the scent of Monarchia’s ashes curdling upon his tongue.
~
Alpharius and Omegon’s threads, a single, thick cord that split in half, bobbing and weaving until neither could tell who was whose. It just seems to love knots, looping around itself, around others, dragging others together without abandon.
~
Vulkan’s thread, thick and dark and braided, glowing softly with a gentle warmth. It trails itself around his chest, wrapping itself around all near and wide, spreading like a kind coat of flame. It is tender, such a lovely thing. It has chipped, and knotted, and frayed over the eons, but it braids on, thick and resolute. Ashes are embedded in its strings now, but their warmth is still there, just buried under the charcoal.
~
Fulgrim’s thread was made of silk. A beautiful, perfect, fragile thing. It had bound itself around his hands, around Ferrus’ silver hands and his neck. The delicate silk, so pale against the silver. And how pitifully it had shattered, without a cry, without a song, only with the slithering of sick silk as he had snapped it when the Laerblade took Ferrus’ head.
~
Ferrus’ thread was a chain. It wrapped around his neck and hands. It had pooled itself slowly around Fulgrim, like a lazy snake, braiding itself together into intricate knots with his silk. When Fulgrim took his head from his shoulders, the links had shattered.
~
Horus’ thread, white and black. It tied itself so languishly over one of his forearms. If only he had known. If only he had seen. If only he had felt the thread tightening, tugging, unraveling as he had sped his way down a path, and never glanced back upon the road he had trodden. When it finally spun itself out of silk, it tied together in one, final blasphemy of angel feathers. Both tips of their threads had been charred together, one longer than the other.
It was Horus that undid the knot.
He did not even see it unravel when he cut the life out of his brother.
~
Malcador’s thread. Grey, seemingly thin, but with an impossible, resolute strength. There it was, underpinning the Emperor's thread like a shadow, together even in death. How brightly it had burned, like candlewick, as he sat upon the Throne, eyes bulging, nerves burning, feeling the cells in his body die one by one. It had charred itself to cinders, and then to ash, and finally dust, before his lord made it back home.
~
And finally, the Emperor's thread. It wrapped around Himself, and only Himself, but it branched off like the leaves of Yggdrasil. It curled itself into the veins of His Custodes, it dragged together the binds of His Primarchs, it curled together like one with Malcador. Some branches were frayed, their ends charred, some had curled up into a solitary knot that no longer held another, some burnt like living, writhing sunlight caught in flesh, but some were warm. Some still dreamt, lazily winding through the fog, one out of thousands. They would bind themselves not to men, or to women, but to entire worlds, to every last beating heart upon the land. It was not a leash, or a noose, or a chain this time, it was merely a bridge, the last heart of a dead god who had once gazed upon His people. And smiled.
Where Jimin runs a nsfw twitter account for jeongguk, a famous street dancer, but what happens when jeongguk discovers that under that account there’s a cute shy boy that’s his bestfriends roommate?
Thread by @Chantygabri: "[jikook au nsfw] Where Jimin runs a nsfw twitter account for jeongguk, a famous street dancer, but what happens whe
Where Jimin runs a nsfw twitter account for jeongguk, a famous street dancer, but what happens when jeongguk discovers that under that account there’s a cute shy boy that’s his bestfriends roommate?
Thread by @Paradise_Chimmy: "JIKOOK/KOOKMIN AU (nsfw) Freshman art prodigy Jungkook pines over a hot dancer he walks past everyday after cla
❝Holy shit, you’re burning up.❞
Vanna shivered as she covered herself up with blankets to keep herself warm and dry from being out in the cold rain. "I'm fine. I just need to tough it out and keep walking. That's all."
ރ (Leon)
"Jesus, You're fast!," Vanna breathed as she and Leon finished practicing hand to hand combat in the spare fighting room. She slowly walked towards the table and took a sip of her water bottle. She wore her black yoga pants and a pink midriff tanktop that shows off her toned stomach. "I don't know who trained you before, but they have done a pretty good damn job. You need to share me your secrets!"
"Watch out!" Leon shouted before firing a bullet at a zombies head that was about to lunge at a live woman who he saw trying to defend herself in this apocalypse. "This way!" He waved her over as it would be better if they stick together. (Kindredofficer)
Vanna jumped in shock as the bullet went through the zombie's head and fell on the ground next to her. Still holding her baseball bat, she ran towards the stranger who saved her.
"T-Thank you! Thank you, Sir. Please get me the hell out of here!," she pleaded to him.